Never Meant to Let It Get Away From Me
by gooseberrie
Summary: Kurt's finally gotten out; falling in love a little more every day with New York. Miles away, Blaine tells himself he can do this. Kurt/Blaine. Full summary inside.


**Title: **Never Meant to Let It Get Away From Me

**Author: **matchingbowties

**Rating: **PG-13 / T

**Word Count: **6,000+

**Pairings: **Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/Tina friendship, Blaine/Finn friendship; mentioned Mike/Tina

**Warnings: **swearing, vague references to sex

**Spoilers: **The plot is based off everything we know so far from season 3, so I'll play it safe and say spoilers for the entirety of this season.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognise. Title is taken from Sara Bareilles' "Uncharted".

**Summary: **Kurt's finally gotten out; falling in love a little more every day with New York. Miles away, Blaine tells himself he can do this.

**A/N: **This is a Christmas present for **Erin (whatabeautifulmess)**; the idea has been in my head for literally months, and has gone through several drafts, but never quite got finished. I hope you like it, sweetie, and I hope the rest of you enjoy it!

* * *

><p>When Kurt leaves for New York, Blaine tells himself that he can do this; concentrates not on the way there is a skip in Kurt's step as he takes Rachel's hand on the way to the boarding gate, but on the constant mantra in his head. <em>Three months, three months, three months. <em>It's there in everything he does; kissed sweetly onto his skin that last night in Kurt's room, spoken in Rachel's voice, shaky and tearful as she hugged him, in Burt's clap on the shoulder as they turned away from the amber-yellow lettering: _New York – JFK; 13.15._

_Just three months_.

.

.

The first three weeks, they Skype every day; texting in between classes, Kurt with little anecdotes on the city and school (_This class makes me want to jump off Brooklyn Bridge_), Blaine with the most interesting things he can come up with, stuck where he is in Lima (_I kind of get what Coach Sylvester is always going on about with Mr Schue's hair – though I'm not really one to talk, I guess_). Every weekend there's an email sitting in his inbox, a good four or five paragraphs, words and words about New York, Rachel's latest escapades, whatever ridiculous thing the teacher Kurt hates so much has done now; and always, at the end, is a paragraph entirely of its own, asking about Blaine – what's happening in Glee Club, how Tina and Artie and Sugar are, how _Blaine_ is doing. _What have you been up to?_

It makes Blaine feel okay even on his worst days, when Dad is ignoring him and Mom isn't saying anything, as usual; it makes him feel better because Kurt cares – even though he's miles and miles away, he still finds time to worry about Blaine. It's kind of nice, this feeling – God knows it took him long enough to get used to actually being loved and wanted by someone.

It's the end of the fourth week when his email doesn't come. He closes his inbox, opens again – nothing. _He just hasn't had a chance to sit down and write yet, he'll do it soon. _An hour later, he's back at his laptop, and he wonders if maybe the email just didn't send properly. At seven in the evening, he checks again. When there's nothing, he tells himself not to worry. They've Skyped every evening this week, and Kurt had seemed fine, albeit a little more tired than he'd looked before; he's probably loaded down with homework and simply didn't have time. It's okay, Blaine thinks, because they've talked (just yesterday, in fact), and even before Kurt left, they agreed not to succumb to that fatality of long-distance relationships – just getting out of touch.

_We'll be fine._

It's fierce and angry even in his head, trying to convince himself. He's not sure if it'll work.

.

.

The next day, Kurt comes online late in the evening; Blaine's finished his homework and tidied his room, restless and with nothing to do.

"Hey, babe."

"Hi, how are you?" he returns, and even to his ears it's ridiculously forced. His smile feels out of place, stretched too tight across his face.

"Blaine? Is something wrong?" Kurt's eyes widen in that way of his, oceans of blue and green and grey that a grainy webcam can't do justice.

"No, no, not at all."

Kurt can always tell when he's lying, though (or maybe he's the only one who's ever actually cared), and he narrows his eyes.

"Blaine."

"It's nothing."

"_Blaine_. It's obviously not nothing – you're acting weird and I want to know what it is."

"Just drop it, Kurt."

"No, I won't. Tell me what's wrong."

And God, he can tell Kurt won't let this go; he never does with things like this, and he both loves and hates that about him.

"I – no, it's stupid."

"_Blaine._"

"I just –"

He looks up from his bedspread, and Kurt's eyes pierce his, his whole being focused on Blaine; he feels horrible for even _having_ these feelings, because it's obvious Kurt is still here for him. He was just being ridiculous, yesterday, but now he's going to have to admit it. Looking back down, he mutters.

"You – um, you didn't email yesterday and I was being _stupid_ but I just got so – I just got so scared that you'd forgotten about me and obviously that was idiotic because you just didn't have time and I was making a big deal of nothing so let's just forget this ever happened okay?"

There's silence for a couple of seconds, and all Blaine can hear is his heart pounding because _God_, Kurt is going to think he's the most pathetic, needy thing and dump his ass –

"Oh, _Blaine_."

He looks up and Kurt's eyes are still that crazy size, like freaking saucers, but it's harder to read his emotions, this time.

"I'm sorry." and that's the _last_ thing he's expecting to hear, because what on earth does Kurt have to be sorry for?

"You – what?"

"I'm sorry, baby. I just had this paper that Hayden wanted in first thing this morning, and I hadn't even started yet, but I – I should have remembered and I'm sorry."

"Kurt... you don't have to be sorry. I was over-reacting, it's normal for you to be busy. Don't worry about me, okay?"

"No, but Blaine – look. The thing is, you always do this, you want to give me everything and you never think about yourself. I don't want you to feel like you can make excuses for me just because I'm busy; this is a relationship, you're not supposed to cater to my every need. Sweetie, this is good, okay – you have to _tell_ me when I forget stuff, when you feel worried about me – I want to know. I – I _need_ to know, or this isn't a healthy relationship."

Blaine doesn't know what to say – even if did, he probably wouldn't be able to speak. This is thing, Kurt always says that Blaine gives and gives, and that's true – but Kurt's the only person who's ever given back and he underestimates how much that means to Blaine.

Kurt's still staring at him with those wide eyes.

"I love you, Blaine. I love you so much."

That's all he needs to bring him home in the end, really.

.

.

Blaine walks into Glee Club on Thursday to find Tina sitting by herself on a chair in the corner, silent tears streaming down her face, and drops everything.

Tina's become his best friend, over the past month and half, the two of them bonding over their love of baking (though neither are particularly good at it), and the fact that they both have boyfriends away at college. He knows Tina can tend to be quite prone to tears under stress of any sort, but normally she'll be loud and overt about it, aware of how ridiculous she's being. Now, though, she's curled in on herself, utterly miserable and tears staining her dress – which he knows for a fact cost over a hundred dollars – unheeded; something is really wrong.

"Tina – Tina... what's wrong?"

She looks up at him, her eyes red and puffy, and he knows what she needs straight away (and it always makes him happy that he's found someone else he understands, someone who understands him just as well, who isn't Kurt, because he'd always hated that he relied completely on Kurt as his best friend last year).

"Come here," he says, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Mike..." she manages to get out eventually, and Blaine's stomach drops. "Mike – he – his dance partner – he talks about her so much and her name is Jasmine and she's Korean and she's so much prettier than me and I – she –"

"Tina," he begins, and he doesn't even know how to comfort her because he is in practically the same situation as her, no matter how much he trusts Kurt; he can never quite shake the thought that he has no idea what Kurt's doing, and that there's not much he could do about it even if he did.

"I just... I'm so _scared_, Blaine, because I wouldn't even blame him if he cheated and that's insane. I should hate him but I wouldn't. I – it frightens me, how he has my heart – I mean, I never even made the decision, he just – has me, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I know," he says, as Tina sobs into his shoulder, because _God_, he does.

.

.

"Tina thinks Mike might be cheating."

He says it as blandly as he can, trying not to express any of the emotions he's feeling – and to be honest, he doesn't even really know what he's feeling. All he knows it that this – whatever _this_ is – has been eating at him for the past couple of days and he doesn't even really know what to say to Kurt now.

There's silence from Kurt's end, for a few seconds that last far too long, just the two of them breathing and Kurt processing just exactly what Blaine is saying.

"Blaine, I – this can't be easy on you," Kurt begins, and_how_ does he even do that, how does he get into Blaine's head and know exactly what he's thinking? It frightens him, really, how much Kurt _gets_ him.

"She's my best friend, Kurt, and it's just – we're in exactly the same position, really." Kurt's nodding, miles away against the backdrop of his dorm room that Blaine knows so well by now, so he takes a breath and continues with just what he's feeling, hoping to every deity there is that Kurt understands this, too, "It's not even so much any actual... certainty that he's cheating; it's just – living every day worrying because to be frank, you could do anything and I would never know unless you told me."

"I think – honesty's always been our thing, Blaine, it's how we work. You have to know that I would never, ever cheat on you," and Blaine _does_ know, Kurt has never been that kind of person, " – but if _anything_ happens, ever, I – I'll tell you. You deserve to feel secure, Blaine."

He looks up at Kurt, who has never been anything but honest with him, who opened up right when they very first met and laid everything he had out on the line for him. He knows, is absolutely certain that Kurt _will _be honest with him if he promises, and he thinks that just maybe he'll feel a bit surer about this if Kurt does.

"I – okay. You know, we really can make this work, Kurt."

"I know."

.

.

Finn's still in town. After Burt won the election last year, and he and Carole moved to Washington at the end of the year, Finn decided to go to community college just a town over so he could keep the garage running, and Blaine's glad. It means he has somewhere to go when home gets too much to deal with; no matter how strained his and Finn's relationship had been when he transferred, they'd learnt how to act around each other, and they have something bordering on what Finn would call a 'bromance' now.

Today, even his mother appeared to forget his existence, and he only got dinner because he heard the clinking of cutlery on his way to bathroom. The whole meal had passed in tense silence, and by the end of it he really just needed to get out.

"I'm going to a friends', I might stay the night," he'd called up the stairs, though he doubted his parents cared either way.

When he gets to Finn's tiny little flat, he finds it just as cluttered and crazy as last time he was round. Finn's smile though – the fact that he looks genuinely glad to see him, makes arriving here a million times better than getting home to his parent's squeaky clean house.

"Blaine, dude! It's good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Finn."

Now, they don't _always_ get drunk together, but Blaine's 18 now and is at least a little better at holding his alcohol – anyways, they normally only border on tipsy and it's not like there's anything else better to do on a slow Saturday night in nowhere, Ohio.

As Finn hands him a bottle of something that looks like it could be vodka, he asks, "So... what's up, bro?"

Blaine takes a swig. "Not much, I guess... Tina's having worries about Mike."

"Oh, Mike would never cheat on her." Finn says, and Blaine looks up, because he's come to learn that oddly, Finn is at his wisest with a bottle in his hand, sitting under the stars on the roof of his cheap apartment block. "He looks at her the way Kurt looks at you, you know, so I wouldn't worry about him,"

Blaine sends Finn a questioning look. "The way Kurt looks at me?"

"God, dude, it's – it's insane, the way he looks at you. Like you're the sun, the stars," (he gestures at the twinkling sky above them) " – everything! You know... like he'd follow you anywhere, give you anything. And the rest of us should all just be jealous because we don't have someone like you."

And fuck if Blaine doesn't just want to cry at that, because while Finn may not be the brightest about most things, he's pretty clever at times, and he sounds 100% sure about this.

"Finn, I –"

"You should talk to Mike, bro. If you really want to be sure, you know. I mean, you guys used to be pretty good friends, last year, right?"

Blaine looks at him, smiling, because Finn's a good person at heart, and he's kind of glad they overcame their differences. "You know, you're really not given enough credit for your ideas, Finn. Sort of like... like Luna Lovegood, maybe?"

"But _dude._ I don't go around with bottle-cork necklaces on, talking about random made-up creatures, do I?"

Finn actually looks down at his neck, "_just in case, dude!_", and Blaine thinks he might have to retract that statement.

.

.

When Blaine comes into school the next Monday, clutching a print-out of an email from Mike, detailing every single thing he loves about Tina, the reasons that no other girl could compare to her (and it's two full pages long), and watches the widest smile he's ever seen appear on his best friend's face, he just tells her to thank Finn.

It's mid-November, by now. _A month and half_.

.

.

"Hey, Kurt! What's up?"

"Oh, um, hi, Blaine."

"Can you believe it, Kurt? Just over a month left!"

Blaine is practically bouncing with excitement, because that's only three weeks, and he just can't wait.

"Yeah – um, actually, Blaine, that's what I was calling about. The thing is –" Kurt takes a deep breath, " – the thing is, I... um, I can't make it back for Christmas."

Blaine's throat goes dry, and he can feel a lump rising there, because _what?_

"I'm – Blaine, I'm so _so_ sorry, but there's this – there's this course that's running over the holidays, and I – it would be so helpful and I – God, I want to be with you so badly, but it's just – it's such a good opportunity, it's not going to run again and –"

"It's okay, Kurt. Don't worry about it."

"I – are you sure, Blaine?"

"Yes, yeah – it's fine, I understand."

"Well, if you're – if you're sure, Blaine. I should... I should go now, I've used up enough of your break."

"O – ok."

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you too."

.

.

"Kurt can't make it here for Christmas."

"_Blaine_," Tina begins, but he cuts her off because he knows that whatever she tries to say will only make things worse, no matter how much she wants to make him feel better.

"I'm okay, Tina."

"Blaine, you're not okay. No-one expects you to be. Look – you can let it out here, it's just us," she says, gesturing around at Artie and Sugar, who both look as concerned as she does. Glee Club let out about fifteen minutes ago, but the three of them had stayed behind with him, noticing his drawn, tired expression. He looks around at them, the only people he really has left at this school, the only ones who actually care, and finally breaks.

"I just..." he manages before the tears that have been burning fiery at the backs of his eyes for the whole day are finally released, trails of heat down his cheeks, and he just can't _stop_ them. "I just want to _see_ him, Tina. I haven't even hugged him in so long and I miss him so badly, God, and I can't even hate him because he's doing what he loves and he's finally got out of here. The thing is, I'm the only person he'd really come back for – and Finn, I guess. And I – I feel like I'm not enough, like I'm not worth it, and it's ridiculous because he loves me, I know, but I just want to kiss my boyfriend again and is that too much to ask?"

Tina hugs him then, so tightly he thinks his ribs have probably been permanently disfigured, and then Sugar piles in on the other side and Artie wheels right up to them so their knees are touching. He's so grateful for his friends, really, because in the end these people he's only properly known for just over a year will love him more than his parents ever have.

.

.

"Hey, Kurt."

"Oh, hi Blaine."

Kurt sounds busy, in a rush, but Blaine's made his decision now and he wants to speak.

"So, um... you know how you said that I should tell you if I felt worried, or whatever, about us?"

"Blaine, sweetie," Kurt says, and Blaine can tell he's not really heard what he just said, "could you possibly call me back later? It's just, I have a lot of work to do right now and I don't really have time to talk. I'm sorry, love."

"No, no, it's okay. You go on,"

"Are you sure? Well, we'll talk later then? I love you, Blaine."

"Yeah, I know. Bye, Kurt."

It's only as he puts his phone back to charge that he realises he hadn't said it back.

He wants to scream.

.

.

A week later, he still hasn't called Kurt back; Kurt hasn't called him either, though.

He leaves his phone at home one day, but doesn't worry about it too much – it's not really like anyone important except for Kurt would be calling him, anyway. So that's why he's surprised, when he comes home, to find 70 missed calls and 60 texts, all from the same contact – '_Kurt 3_'. He kind of can't believe it.

"_Kurt?_"

All he hears is a rather undignified snort from the other end, and then his phone practically explodes, and he has to hold it an inch away from his head to keep from going deaf.

"Are you _kidding_ me, Blaine Anderson?"

" – Kurt?"

"Are you actually being serious right now? I've called you, what, eighty times today, and you only _now_ find it in your heart to answer the phone?" He knows what Kurt's doing, of course he does; he's picking a fight, bitch-mode on in full force, but right now Blaine finds that he really does _not_ want to deal with it.

"_Actually, _I left it at home, Kurt."

"Sure you did." He can practically feel the sarcasm dripping through the phone, Kurt's laying it on that thick, and he bristles.

"Oh, because of course your decision to pick some stupid _course_ over seeing me, your boyfriend, for the first time in three months came straight from _your_ heart."

"I've already explained that –"

"But have you, actually, Kurt? All I really got was a two minute phone call – and Christ, I know you've been busy, but make some fucking time, Kurt. You didn't even _listen_ when I was trying to tell you what I felt, and you told me before to tell you if I was worried – you said it mattered. Or did you forget that?"

"No, I haven't, actually, but I'm sorry if I've not had a chance fucking _sleep_, let alone call you, what with all the work I've had recently; by the time I get home from rehearsals or classes or whatever other god-damn thing it is I have to do you're either asleep or in school. And I'm fucking _sorry_ if that 'stupid course' would have increased my chances at a successful career, which would actually probably have helped you in the long run, seeing as you're joining me next year. I'm sorry if that same 'stupid course' just got cancelled and I've been calling to tell you that it turns out I _can_ come and see you after all. I'm sorry if any of that _inconvenienced_ you in any way. You know, I might just use that money I've saved to go to Washington and visit Dad."

"You _do_ that, Kurt. I don't fucking need you."

"Well, that's funny, I was thinking exactly the same thing. _Have a nice Christmas, Blaine_. We're fucking through."

.

.

In Westerville, Ohio, Blaine Anderson curls up in his bedroom and sobs. His parents don't even notice.

In New York City, in a tiny, tiny dorm room, Kurt Hummel sinks to floor and doesn't care about the fact that his tears are ruining his brand new shirt.

.

.

"I fucked everything up, Tina."

"Blaine," she begins, placing a hand over his on her expensively done-up kitchen table-top.

"I just – I need him so _much_ I can't even see straight sometimes, and now he hates me because I was so _idiotic_ and clingy, and I don't even know what I'm going to do, God – he... he's my everything, Tina, this whole year I've been counting down to seeing him again and now everything will be so tense and I promised myself – we promised ourselves – that we wouldn't let this happen, I was so scared it would and I can't even stop _thinking_ about him!"

"What makes you think he hates you?" and _what even_, of course Kurt hates him – he's pretty sure his vicious words over the phone were enough to assure that.

"Tina – I was so horrible to him, how could he not?"

"But he was horrible to you too, right?"

"He had a right to be –"

"That doesn't matter; the point is you both said mean things to each other – things that you didn't mean. That's the way fights work, Blaine."

"But he – "

"What I'm saying is, I can tell you for a fact that Kurt is sitting in his dorm room in New York thinking _exactly_ the same things as you."

"You don't – "

"You and Kurt – you're the real thing, Blaine, you're meant to be. Don't let this go, don't let him slip away over one mistake – because I promise you, you'll regret it."

Tina pats his hand and moves into another corner of the kitchen, switching on the mixer and pulling over the bowl of cookie batter. Blaine watches her silently, and tells himself that he'll talk to Kurt. _Maybe tomorrow._

_._

_._

The Christmas holidays start, and Blaine still hasn't called Kurt.

_I'll do it tomorrow._

_._

_._

The morning of Christmas Eve rolls around (and what do you even _call_ that?), and Blaine wakes up late. When he goes downstairs he notices that the living room is still bare, and he can't remember the last time his parents bothered to put a tree up. They hadn't even been here last Christmas, and he remembers with a pang that he'd spent the holidays with the Hummel-Hudsons, having been dragged – bodily – there the minute Kurt found out he was alone. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt – in the end it all comes back to him.

"Mom... is it okay if I go to Finn's for Christmas? I haven't spent time with him in a while," Blaine says, even as he finds himself wondering why he bothers trying to justify himself anymore; it's not like his mother cares either way.

"As long as you're safe, Blaine."

That's how he finds himself at Finn's door; stamping snow off his boots (and he remembers building a snowman with Rachel and Kurt last year, but ending up mostly just throwing snowballs at Kurt because he loved the way his face scrunched up in annoyance), knocking quietly and hoping that Finn's on-and-off girlfriend Penny isn't there.

"S'up, dude?"

Finn looks sleepy, as though he just rolled out of bed; Blaine thinks that he probably has and feels kind of bad.

"I – would it be okay if I spent Christmas here? My parents are just, you know..."

"Yeah, I know. Come in, bro."

Inside Finn's flat it's warm, and despite the tiny size he's overwhelmed by how bright it is; as he ventures further inside, dumping his bag on the way, he's reminded of Finn's penchant for the shiniest tinsel in existence (_it's Wal-Mart brand, dude, what did you expect?_) and thinks that Kurt would probably have a coronary if he saw this place. And there he goes again, reminding himself of Kurt. He feels tears prickling the backs of his eyes at the memories of Kurt in winter; how rosy his cheeks would get, the perfect peppermint hot chocolate he made, the way he was in his element, layers upon layers of cardigans and shirts and jumpers and his favourite pea-coat on top – and of course the look on his face when he saw Blaine properly bundled up for the snow.

"... Blaine, are you okay?"

"What? Um – yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Finn's voice brings him out of his reverie, and he realises that he really needs to stop doing that, because it probably scares people a bit.

"So how's Kurt? Have you talked to him lately?"

It comes as a bit of a shock to him when he realises that Finn doesn't know – but then again, Blaine hasn't seen him in a while. He can't stop the tears that spill out, though, because it hurts worse than ever when people talk about him and Kurt in the present tense.

"Oh God – I've said something wrong, haven't I? Rachel's been trying to get me to work on that – or at least, she was before she went to New York," (Blaine just cries harder at that, and Finn gets that deer-in-headlights look of his that he has around crying people) "I – dude, I'm sorry, whatever it is,"

And really, Blaine feels awful at that because who is he to come dumping all his problems on Finn, who's done absolutely nothing?

"Finn, you don't – it's not your fault. It's just – Kurt and I, um, broke up."

He closes his eyes, because no matter what, Finn is Kurt's brother above all, and he does have a tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions; to be honest, Blaine's still a bit scared of him after his rather convincing "hurt him and I'll kill you" speech almost two years ago.

"_Dude._"

Blaine squeezes his eyes tighter shut, preparing himself for the tirade about cheating on Kurt that he's sure will come; instead all he hears is a sigh.

"What are you guys _smoking_? You're, like, non-separatable!"

"Inseparable, Finn," he corrects, but his heart feels like it's clenched in his chest because yeah, they _used_ to be inseparable.

"It doesn't matter. Explain."

.

.

After he's told the whole story, and Finn has ranted a bit about their stupidity (_I just can't believe you guys, sometimes!_), they settle down in front of the TV. The usual late-night Christmas special re-runs are on, a loop of boredom for all those sad and lonely enough to have nothing better to do on Christmas Eve. While Blaine half-watches, though, he's aware of Finn tapping away on his phone next to him, a new message _ding_ing in every minute.

"Who're you talking to?"

Finn looks up, startled at first, and then oddly shifty.

"Oh – no one, just – erm, just... Penny."

Blaine can tell he's lying – he's pretty sure Martians could, but he drops it anyway because Finn probably doesn't want to tell him for a reason, and it's not really any of his business in the first place.

"Last Christmas was a lot more cheerful than this, huh?" he comments, staring despondently at the screen, remembering how much wider Finn's grin was, how much more real it was, when Rachel was around the house, laughing her loud, crazy laugh at whatever silly thing it was she found funny; the happy, bubbly feeling in his own chest when Kurt had stood on his tiptoes on a stepladder to place the star on top of the tree.

"I guess," says Finn, after a few seconds, before smiling madly at something on his phone.

"What?" Blaine asks, teasing, but not really expecting an answer. Finn glances up, though, still smiling.

"Oh, nothing – I just wouldn't write this Christmas off so quickly, is all."

"Yeah?"

"Come on, cheer up bro – 'tis the season, after all."

"Hmm," Blaine says noncommitally. He's still not convinced.

.

.

Blaine wakes up late on Christmas Day; he rolls over to check the clock and stares at it as it blinks 13.00 at him relentlessly. He vaguely remembers he and Finn calling it a day sometime around 3 am. Stumbling off the couch, he takes a couple of seconds to find his bearings, and then heads for the kitchen – to find it empty.

"Finn?" he asks, unsure. He checks around Finn's room, the miniscule bathroom, even goes up to the roof, feeling ridiculous in his pyjamas – but Finn's nowhere to be found. Figuring that he's gone out to get something, or maybe with Penny, Blaine sits down on the couch and flicks through the channels. He settles eventually on some mindless reality show, trying to concentrate on the plastic smiles of the fake-tanned girls and muscly boys running around in front of him.

Inevitably, his thoughts stray to Kurt.

He remembers his smile, the little giggles or high-pitched, out of control noises he makes when he's really laughing; how beautiful he looks, _always_, even when he's crying. He remembers how passionate he is when he sings, the way his whole being lights up and the way he draws attention with the way he controls the stage. It's stunning, really, and Blaine never could quite believe Kurt was real when he was on stage. He remembers little things, too; how Kurt smelled, always the same clean, slightly spicy cologne and something else that was just uniquely _Kurt_, how when he blushed, his cheeks would tinge pink first and then it would spread down to his neck. He remembers the things he's learnt about Kurt, so many things – his bravery and strength, how he uses his sarcasm because it tends to be his best method of self-defence; and more recently, that noise he makes when he comes, sweet and sated and so much lower than his normal speaking voice, and the most beautiful thing Blaine's ever heard.

As Project Runway comes on, he tries to blink away his tears, but even this stupid, _stupid_ TV show has memories attached; Kurt's witty, sarcastic comments on everything, and the incredulous, annoyed way he'd scold Finn when he tried to get Kurt to shut up. Actually, speaking of that...

"Finn? _Finn!_ Open the door, it's freezing out here!"

Oh God. That voice – he hasn't heard that voice in what seems like forever, not since... not since they broke up. But what on earth is Kurt doing here, in Ohio?

He heads for the door, though, needing to hear that voice again, drinking it in.

"Finn!"

He leans against the wood, and Kurt is _so close_, less than a foot away, with nothing but a door between them.

"FINN HUDSON, I swear to God if you do not open this door _right now –_"

Blaine makes his decision.

The light that hits him as he opens the door is blindingly bright, reflecting off the snow outside, and he has to blink a couple of times to adjust his eyes.

.

.

"Well, you took your –"

Kurt freezes where he is, one hand on the massive suitcase beside him (and that's so _him_, because he's probably only meant to be staying for a day or two). Blaine just drinks in the sight of him, bundled up against the cold in that same old pea-coat, his nose and cheeks red and fingerless gloves on his hands because mittens are '_just pathetic, honestly_'.

"..._ Blaine._"

His name comes out as a whisper, and Kurt's eyes are literally half the size of his face in shock. His face is a mixture of so many emotions, and Blaine is pretty sure his heart has stopped beating because Kurt could do _anything _right now. The last thing he's expecting, though, is having the breath hugged out of him, but that's what happens. He just hugs back, because Kurt still smells exactly the same and that's kind of the only thing that makes sense to him right now. When Kurt's lips find his, it's just like coming home.

"Kurt, I –"

"I'm so sorry, Blaine, I'm so _sorry_, I –"

"I'm sorry too, oh God, you don't know how much, but what are you doing _here_?"

Kurt sighs against his mouth, resting their foreheads together. "Finn texted me and told me he wanted to see me, in person. Said he had something important to tell me. And I just – you're here, in Ohio, too, and I couldn't get you out of my head after we broke up, and Rachel's been trying to get me to come talk to you since forever, and – I just had to tell you, Blaine, I _had _to."

"Had to tell me what?"

"I lied, Blaine – when I said I didn't need you," he explains, "I – God, I need you so much, I couldn't even get out of _bed_ some days, after we fought, you know," and Blaine's nodding, because of course he knows, he feels exactly the same way.

"We can't ever – we can't ever let it get like that again, Kurt, I mean... it's bad enough not having you here with me, but when I didn't even _have_ you..."

Kurt looks at him then, eyes wet and so, _so_ blue, "You've always had me, Blaine," and if that isn't the most ridiculously romantic thing anyone's ever said to him, then he doesn't know what is – and the thing is, it's completely true.

.

.

Finn comes in an hour later, grocery bags in hand, and covers his eyes, asking if they're decent. They are, actually; they've done nothing but talk yet, sorting through everything and catching up and swapping stories.

"Thank you," they say, at exactly the same time, before looking at each other and laughing. Finn smiles gently, putting down the bags.

"I was just doing the right thing," he says, "You guys are, like, some of the best people I know. You deserve to be happy."

"Has anyone ever told you you're the best brother in the entire history of brothers?" Kurt asks, and his eyes are wet again, but Blaine just kisses the side of his head softly because he knows these are the best kind of happy tears.

.

.

"I love you too." Blaine says, suddenly, and apparently randomly, as they sit facing each other on Finn's bed.

"Hmm?"

"I – there was a phone call, once, you were busy or something," and Kurt winces, but Blaine doesn't even care about that any more, " – but you still remembered to say you loved me. And I – I was pissed, and I didn't say it back. So, I love you too."

Kurt looks at him like he can't quite believe he's real, a slow smile spreading across his face. Blaine leans forward to chase it off, "I love you, I love you, I love you" against his lips. He kisses it into Kurt's neck, swirling his tongue against _that spot_, and Kurt moans in that way he loves so much. He hears Finn closing the door somewhere in the background, still his awkward self as he mutters "Don't be – loud", and he hears – _feels_ – Kurt's giggle, stemming from deep in his chest; everything's finally the way it should be and Blaine can _breathe_ again.

~end~


End file.
